Stern: Yes, Jim. You're our flagship franchise -- this is freakin' New York for goodness sake. I can't have you being the embarrassment of the league. It's just not good for business.

Dolan: I'm not quite sure I follow...

Stern: (stands up and begins pacing back and forth) Jim. James. Every day I have fifteen articles slamming you fly across my desk, each worse than the last. Leno and Conan have been absolutely hammering you lately.

Dolan: So, we've been in the news? That's good, right? There's no such thing as bad publicity!

Stern: No, Jim. You're the laughingstock of the league -- that's why we've kept the Clippers and Hawks around for so long, to deflect this type of attention.

Dolan: I'll get you some tickets. We're great. We're kind of like... if you took the blues and feces and put it in a blender -- that's what JD & The Straight Shot is like.

Stern: You know I could have you killed? I could... and honestly, I doubt anyone would mind.

Dolan: So, what are you saying? You're not into the blues?

Stern: (flies across his desk, grabbing Dolan by the throat) No, dickweed. What I'm saying is that you are fucking joke!

Dolan: Ouch! You're hurting me. Uncle!

Stern: You have one week -- that's seven days -- to eliminate Isiah Thomas from your organization.

Dolan: But... but I can't.

Stern: No. You can... and you will.

Dolan: But... I can't. I-I-I... can't.

Stern: You get rid of him, or I get rid of you. (releases grip)

Dolan: (begins to sob) But you don't understand! I can't! (sneaks quick glances around the office and begins to whisper) He knows things! Deep, dark, big secrets! He could bring this whole operation down!